


Harry, Louis, and Their Two Ghosts

by areyoutherelarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Break Up, Canon Compliant, Getting Back Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-14 23:57:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11794146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyoutherelarry/pseuds/areyoutherelarry
Summary: After the heartache of the last year, Harry and Louis think maybe they were too quick to breakup two years ago over a stupid song, but how are they going to overcome all that time apart and the hangups that come with dating your former band mate and ex-boyfriend.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all, 
> 
> I hope you like this canon compliant work. If you see any errors, please let me know. I've been trying to look at timelines etc., but making something canon compliant is rough. 
> 
> I am going to try to update this with fidelity.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louis and Harry breakup.

November 2014- Louis

                  Louis’s lying on his bed, well their bed he guesses since Harry doesn’t really have a place in London. He’s bored because Harry is taking a shower and he doesn’t want to go downstairs to do anything. Louis doesn’t mean any harm when he picks up the notebook; it’s mindless and it’s not like they’ve ever really kept anything from each other. It’s one of those fancy notebooks that Harry is always toting around. He really doesn’t mean any harm by it, really.

                  He thumbs through it and it stops on a page near the end. The corner is dog-eared and the page feels more worn than the others like Harry has spent a lot of time on it. That makes Louis curious, of course. What has kept his boyfriend’s attention so well when he can barely get it nowadays. It’s lyrics that Louis can tell immediately and it’s written in that strange cyclical way that Harry has when he first writes a song, so he knows immediately it’s not a song from _Four_ or their, as of now, untitled fifth album because those are more fleshed out now, they’ve heard demos or talked them through. He loves Harry’s songs, feels a thrill every time he belts them in front of thousands of people, and loves the swooping feeling his stomach makes when he hears them for the first time or Harry sings them with such intensity at him. He’s excited to read this one; Harry always shares his songs with Louis and Louis lunges forward not thinking that this one may not be for his eyes. When he starts reading, though, his stomach drops to the ground:

                                    _We’re not who we used to be_

_We’re not who we used to be_

_We’re just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me_

_Trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat._

                  Louis feels a swoop this time too, but it happens as Louis’s emotions tighten his throat and press tears behind his eyes. It’s not a good swoop; it’s not the swoop he wanted. Why did he do this? Why did he do this to himself? Why did he add to the flame of self-doubt that had already started brewing? He looks for any indication that Harry’s talking about someone else and then he sees it:

                                    _Same lips red, same eyes blue_

_Same white shirt, couple more tattoos_

_But it’s not you and it’s not me_

_Tastes so sweet, looks so real_

_Sounds like something that I used to feel_

_But I can’t touch what I see_

He is so caught up and the blood rushing behind his ears is so loud that he doesn’t even realize that the water has shut off. Harry meanders into the room with a towel slung low around his hips and another wrapped up in his curls.

                  “What were you thinking for dinner?” Harry asks languidly, and then his body is suddenly stiff and awkward as he asks more harshly, “What the fuck are you doing?”

                  “I could ask you the same bloody question,” Louis responds as he jumps up from the bed because lying prostrate on the bed they slept in less than five hours ago is too intimate and heartbreaking.

                  “I just finished a shower and I’ve come out here to find my boyfriend flipping through my journal.”

                  “We’re just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me,” Louis reads in an accent that’s probably a bit too acerbic and mocking for the crime Louis has committed.

                  “And now he’s using my words against me,” Harry responds with an air of ridicule, “Un-fucking-believable.”

                  “Sounds like something that I used to feel,” Louis reads accusatorily.

                  “It’s just a song, Louis,” Harry replies peevishly.

                  “Just a song, just a fucking song, or is this how you really feel ‘trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat.’ So you don’t have a heartbeat anymore?”

                  “What the fuck do you want me to say Louis? Nothing I say is going to make this fight end. Nothing I say ever ends this fight. Nothing I say will change how either of us is feeling right now.”

                  “Which is what exactly?” Louis asks because just a few minutes ago he was thumbing through some stupid, heavy-weight, cream-colored paper thinking about having Thai for dinner and fucking his boyfriend before going to bed before promo tomorrow. He wasn’t thinking about their relationship or how out of it Harry seems to want to get or how it’s changed. He was feeling pretty much content and to be dropped off the roof like this is making him defensive, clammy, and livid.

                  “Lou,” Harry says so softly and pityingly, like he’s letting Louis down gently as he reaches out a hand to caress Louis. Louis backpedals until the back of his knees hit the bed.

                  “Get out,” Louis orders, but his voice breaks and it’s undeniable he’s seconds from tears as he drops his face into his hands.

                  “Louis, let’s talk. It’s a song for fuck’s sake.”

                  “Just get out.”

                  Harry fish-mouths at first but then nods perfunctorily, and Louis expected more backlash, more of a fight for their four-year relationship. Louis can’t watch as Harry packs up a bag and shuffles out of the house. The tears break before he even hears the alarm system engage. And, of course, Harry still arms the system. Louis thinks he would’ve been happier if he hadn’t. Louis can’t decide if Harry cares anymore.

                  An hour later, his phone rings and his heart clenches, hoping it’s Harry. It’s Niall instead, “Hey Tommo, Harry’s here,” Niall intones softly as if he’s on a heist mission.

                  “Thanks, mate,” Louis replies, and he is genuinely grateful and relieved that Harry didn’t go running to one of his London friends.

                  “Everything okay?” Niall asks, and Louis knows that Niall probably worries about all of them more than any of them. He keeps the best tabs on everybody too, always the first one to reach out and check-up.

                  “I don’t know.”

                  “He gave the same answer,” Niall informs and he sounds like a mom tsk-tsking over a childish spat, and Louis can’t blame him. Maybe, it is just a childish spat, but it feels bigger than that. It feels like he was standing on a precipice and Harry just shoved him off and now he’s freefalling.

                  “I don’t know what to say.”

                  “Fuck all, okay, I’ve got to go. We’ll talk at rehearsals,” Niall demands.

                  “Okay, bye.”

                  “Bye.”

                  Louis doesn’t sleep at all that night and heading to rehearsals is miserable. Niall and Harry are already there when he arrives; Harry hands him his tea as usual, but the cheek kiss that usually accompanies it doesn’t this time. He mumbles his thanks, and tears press against the back of his eyes. He feels ridiculous.

                  Rehearsals are kind of a wreck, which isn’t anything new really, but it is compounded by the fact that Louis and Harry are acting like the south poles of two magnets and repelling whenever they get close to each other. The choreographer and tour director finally relent from the hideous routine by giving them a break; Harry immediately scurries off so Louis just drops to the floor right where he is.

                  “What’s up?” Zayn asks as he settles down next to Louis, using Louis’s stomach as a pillow.

                  “Nothing.”

                  Zayn snorts and prods him in the ribs, “Fuck off, that is a lie.”

                  “I think Harry and I broke up last night.”

                  “What the fuck?” Zayn whisper-shouts and rolls off Louis to stare into his face, “Are you fucking serious?”

                  “Yeah, I think so.”

                  “What the fuck,” Zayn mumbles as he drops back down to Louis’s stomach, “I’m sorry, mate.”

                  “Me too.”

                  “S’up?” Liam asks as he drops down by them, handing them both their favorite things from the craft service table: Louis, a cereal bar and, Zayn, a samosa.

                  “Louis and Harry broke up,” Zayn reports, and Liam’s jaw drops and the piece of carrot he’s eating falls out of his mouth.

                  “I think,” Louis adds.

                  “He thinks,” Zayn corrects, “Also, that was gross, Leeymo.”

                  Liam kicks Zayn and directs his question at Louis, “What do you mean you think?”

                  “I don’t know I told him to get out and he packed up a bag and went to Niall’s.”

                  “You told him to leave?” Liam asks incredulously.

                  “Yeah, why are you so fucking surprised by that?”

                  “Cause he’s been so moody lately and he’s changed so much, I thought he’d break it off.”

                  “Oy, fuck off, Payno,” Louis mumbles, pressing his feet to Liam’s hip and pushing as hard as he can, but Liam barely moves because he’s a hulking weirdo Louis thinks.

                  “Liam, shut up,” Zayn encourages.

                  “Sorry, it’s just,” Liam trails off when Zayn nudges him with his foot.

                  They sit there in silence for a while and it shouldn’t feel strange but it does. These are Louis’s boys; he shouldn’t feel so disconnected in this moment.

 

July 2010- Louis

                  The first time Louis sees him they're in the long line outside and Louis is so nervous he feels like he's about to puke. His mum is rubbing his back in big circles and it's helping to ground him a little bit, but his stomach still roils mutinously. The boy is gorgeous; he's pretty and handsome at the same time. He is princess and roguish at the exact same time. His curls are to die for and when he turns to his mum and smiles, his dimples knock Louis out.

                  Louis hears the boy sing and knows he's going to be a star. The boy, Harry he says his name is, is nervous, but his voice is still so pure and perfect. Louis knows that one-day people will hang the moon on this boy and his passionate voice.

                  Louis doesn't think his audition went very well but he's made it through and he's terrified of all the people he's going to have to complete with, including the beautiful Harry Styles. He's in the loo; his mum teases him because she says he has a nervous bladder. If his bladder were nervous, now would definitely be a moment to prove it and it does.

                  The boy with the curly hair, Harry he reminds himself, is standing at the urinal and Louis startles him a little when he coughs and shyly says, "Hi." Harry twitches. _Most people don't talk to others at the urinal, stupid,_ Louis thinks to himself, and Harry misses the urinal.

                  "Oops," Harry mumbles; his face turning a lovely shade of crimson, "Hi and sorry about that."

                  "Not a problem," Louis mumbles, looking away from a face that is much prettier up close and personal.

                  They go to wash their hands and Louis cannot let this opportunity go he thinks to himself. It's a bloody weird ass opportunity, but it is one at least to talk to this boy who will be a big star one-day.

                  "I heard you sing," Louis says, and Harry grins at him, "You were really good; you're definitely going to make it through boot camp. With those dimples, you'll probably go really far. The British public won’t stand a chance."

                  Harry is nearly cherry now and he's brushing his fringe out of his eyes, "Thanks."

                  "You're welcome," he says as they drift out of the bathroom.

                  "Well," Harry says as they go to walk different directions out of the bathroom but hesitate.

                  "Could I get a picture?"

                  "With me?"

                  "Yeah, it will be cool to show when you're famous one day."

                  Again, Harry brushes the fringe out of his eyes, "Yeah, sure."

                  They take the picture with their arms around each other and Harry is warm against Louis's side. He's bright and bubbly, and he exudes something Louis wishes he could bottle. Louis knows that he might not be able to make it through to the judges' houses, but he's glad he's got this round with this boy. Louis always knew that he liked boys as well as girls, but this boy just solidifies it in his mind. He wants to do crazy things to this boy, with this boy, and for this boy.

                  He doesn't see Harry as much at boot camp as he would like. When he doesn't make it through, he's devastated, but he's almost more devastated when Harry doesn't make it through. They call him back on stage and he thinks it's a joke. He thinks it's even a crueler joke when he gets called on stage with Harry. They try to smile at each other, but neither one of them can muster a smile that is truly authentic. Louis had never thought he would make it through, so he's not nearly as sad as the other lads. Harry's eyes are blood-shot and his cheeks are tear-streaked. He's beautiful and Louis wants to wrap him up in his arms.

                  The boys all stand together with their arms around each other because the producers prod them to, and Louis's the oldest so he feels a little bit of brotherly responsibility to these boys. He stands in the middle his arms spanning all of the boys. They’re holding onto each other tightly because they aren’t sure what’s happening but they want to show a united front.

                  He's not exactly sure what the judges are talking about when they first bring them on stage. He thinks it might just be a segment for good telly. He's just nodding along, but when he hears band and making it through, he becomes absolutely giddy. He leaps up and Harry catches him. Their arms make their way around each other. Harry is making these little excited noises into Louis’s neck and Louis is desperately happy that they're there together.

                  He and his new band mates listen to what the rest of judges have to say, but his ears are thrumming with so much blood and excitement that he doesn't hear much of it. They leave the stage elated and full of hope and newfound friendship.

                  They run into the lobby and hug the other contestants. Aidan is so excited to see them and so is Mary. Louis gets his back swatted quite a few times and he's never felt this happy in his entire life.

                  Finally, it's time to leave. His mum demands they all take a picture together and so they gather together. His mum snaps the photo and then they're off. He chatters incessantly to his mum until she puts a calming hand on his back. He snorts at that.

                  "Lou, I'm so proud of you," his mum says, and he knows that he's probably too old for this, but he preens under his mum's compliment. She rubs her hand up and down his back, "You did such a good job and I know you and those boys will do well together."

                  "Thanks, mum," he responds with a shy smile on his face.

                  "You like him don't you?"

                  "What?" He asks her taken aback. "Who?"

                  "The one with the curly hair, Harry, I think."

                  "Yeah, his name's Harry. And I don't even know him mum, but I like all of them so far."

                  "Yeah, but Harry's different, isn't he?"

                  "Not sure what you're talking about, mum," he mumbles, and she makes a little judgmental noise.

                  "Don't make me seem senile, Boo Bear. You have a crush on that boy."

                  "No, I haven't."

                  "You can keep saying that, but I won't believe it."

                  "Mum," Louis complains.

                  "You know where you get your stubbornness from, Louis William, and I will not give in."

                  They finally make it back to their car, and it's only when he feels that they're finally far enough down the road that he admits, "It's just that he's so pretty mum; I couldn't help it. Not only is he handsome, but he's kind too."

                  His mum just nods and pats his hand. Her acceptance is everything.

 

December 2014- Harry

                  They’ve been officially broken up for exactly eleven days and Harry’s heart hurts. He misses Louis desperately, and he’s so mad at the situation, himself, the world, and Louis. However, he’s especially mad right now because it’s Louis’s birthday and he wants to call him, sing to him, and tell him that he loves him. It hurts more than he expected. He wanted to feel liberated by the break up and the closet that they were forced into, but he just feels fucking awful.

                  He’s moping around the house, drinking eggnog, when his mother lets out an exasperated sigh. He looks at her and she stares him down for a good minute before he looks away. She’s making cookies, he usually helps her, and they sing Christmas carols. Michael Buble is playing softly in the kitchen, but Harry hasn’t opened his mouth to sing once.

                  “Go out,” his mum says to him. He starts to make an excuse but she shakes him off, “You’re no help here, and you’re depressed about Louis. You need to go out. Go have fun in Holmes Chapel. You still have friends here.”

                  He goes to make another flimsy excuse but she shakes him off again. She hands him the spatula with the gingerbread batter on it and he eats it contemplatively. He could call some of his friends, maybe some of the boys from White Eskimo. It might help; it probably won’t, but his mum is right that this isn’t working. When he gets up to get dressed, she pats him on the back.

                  He texts some of his mates and they tell him they’re going to a local pub. Harry’s not sure how he feels about a pub; fans could swarm them, but he honestly doesn’t really care. Hopefully, it will draw his brain away from Louis and the gaping Louis-shaped hole in his heart. He pulls on all black: black skinnies, a black t-shirt, and a black beanie over his unkempt hair.

                  It does help a little; the socializing takes his mind off of the fucking disaster that is his love life. He doesn’t want to think about what Louis is doing right now, but he also can’t bring himself to make out with a random person he doesn’t know very well, actually he can’t bring himself to make out with anyone who isn’t Louis. The drinking is what really takes his mind off of it, and he’s glad he walked to the pub. It’s not that cold out and he doesn’t need anyone thinking he’s reckless.

                  It’s getting late, and a lot of people are heading home because their folks are going to expect them up in the morning. Harry knows he should probably go too because Robin loves Christmas and makes them all get up drastically early. He’s pulling on his coat when his phone vibrates with a message. It’s from Stan; it says, _wish lou a happy bday you knob_ and Harry is downright irritated by it. He wants to fight back and tell Stan to right fuck off since the last time they talked was in preparation for Louis’s birthday party last year and Harry doesn’t have to do anything. Or maybe he does, he wants to say that he doesn’t have obligations to Louis, but he kind of does, doesn’t he? He does still love him after all even though he was the catalyst for their breakup.

                  He types out about thirty different messages before he just sends “happy birthday!!” with a birthday cake emoji. He gets back a simple, “thanks!” His heart breaks a little more; he goes back more morose than when he left.

                  Gemma is watching _Elf_ curled up under a huge comforter with a mug of what is probably hot chocolate gripped in her hands. She looks up at him and her face asks so many questions before she just says, “I just made the hot cocoa; there’s some on the stove. You could warm it up in the microwave you heathen. There’s marshmallows too!”

                  He nods at her and heads into the kitchen. He almost heats it up on the stove, just so she won’t tease him about heating it up in the microwave. He’s up for a little ribbing though and he wants it fast so he pours the rest into a mug and puts it into the microwave. It scalds the top off his mouth when he tries to drink it too quickly, but it’s really good. He pours a little extra cold milk into the cup to cool it off before adding a heaping amount of marshmallows.

                  He goes back into the room and Gemma offers up part of the blanket. Harry wraps it around his shoulders and curls up next to his sister. She’s warm and smells like floral perfume, chocolate, and home. She nudges him a little bit with her arm and looks at him contemplatively. He pulls away from her gaze and leans his head against her shoulder.

                  “Don’t spill on me,” she demands as she transfers her gaze back to the screen. He harrumphs in response and pokes her in the side. They sit there in silence as Buddy the Elf makes a fool of himself in the mailroom. They watch this movie every year, Gemma probably three or four times.

                  “I’m sorry about you and Louis,” Gemma adds softly.

                  “Long time coming.”

                  “Really?”

                  “We’re just so different now.”

                  “That’s a weird thing to say.”

                  “Why?”

                  “Because you can still love someone if they change.”

                  “It makes it harder.”

                  “I don’t know if that’s true. I’ve known you for nearly twenty-one years and you’ve changed an awful lot in that time, but I still love you.”

                  “That’s because you’re my sister.”

                  “No, I don’t think that’s true because I also still like you even though you’ve changed. Do you reckon you still like Louis?”

                  “Yeah.”

                  “Does he still like you?”

                  “I think so.”

                  “I think you’re being daft, little brother. I love you but your breakup sounds fucking inane.”

                  Harry doesn’t know what to say; he wants to be mad at her, but he’s not really. She’s made a decent point, but their relationship feels irreparable now. He knows Louis will never stopping doubting him at this point, and they both got so frustrated and they said things they shouldn’t have. He’s mucked it all up. He sips on his hot chocolate and tries not to think about how much he wishes he was squeezed into a little bed in Doncaster with a handsy, drunk body pressed against him instead of going to sleep tonight in the expansive bed in his childhood bedroom.

December 2012- Harry

                  Louis is so immensely drunk, and Harry is kind of proud of himself for that. Louis is twenty-one years old today and legally allowed to drink in every country in the world, and Harry has helped him get rip-roaringly drunk in Harry’s childhood home. It’s barely evening and Louis already needs to sleep it off. Louis’s breath is warm on Harry’s neck and Harry wants to kiss him if he wasn’t so sloppy.

                  Louis was in the car that picked Harry up from the airport, and he was already a little tipsy even though it was still morning. When Harry had brought it up, Louis had giggled and said that Stan had already gotten to him. That had made sense. The drive to Holmes Chapel wasn’t very long and Harry brought up that they could go to Doncaster, but Louis shook his head.

                  “Already saw my family today. We had breakfast together. Want to spend the day with you, H. Missed you. Stupid Taylor,” Louis grumbled.

                  They had rolled up the divider in the car and they’d exchanged blowjobs. They’d spent the rest of the ride curled into each other’s bodies and catching up on what they’d missed when they’d been separated.

                  They had then spent the afternoon playing a Christmas-movie-drinking game with Gemma and her boyfriend. Harry and Louis had had different opinions about what drinks had meant. Louis had taken glugs while Harry had taken sips, which had led them to their current predicament.

                  Harry rolls Louis into his bed and Louis automatically curls into the fetal position. Harry kisses his forehead and goes downstairs to grab Louis a Gatorade and some paracetamols. He brings them upstairs and sets them on the bedside table. Louis thanks him and reaches up for another kiss. Harry indulges him and then tells Louis that he’s going out and Louis covers his head with a pillow.                   Management knows they’re together and isn’t quite happy about it; they never are when they spend their birthdays together. They say it makes their fans suspicious. Harry promised he would make an appearance in Holmes Chapel sans Louis sometime today. He always does on Louis’s birthday; it’s a pain in his ass, but it’s the easiest way to appease their management team.

                  He pulls on clothes that make him look like he’s not trying to get recognized and goes down stairs. His mum and Robin are watching _It’s a Wonderful Life_ with glasses of eggnog. They smile softly at him, a gentle look of pity in their eyes, and he waves dismissively. It’s not as bad as some people make it out to be. Louis’s too drunk to be mopey anyways, and Harry doesn’t mind spending some time with his old friends.

                  He sneaks into the party, so people aren’t sure how long he’s been there. He takes quite a few pictures with people, more than usual, so he’s guaranteed that some get out. He spends over an hour milking one lukewarm beer and catching up with his friends. It’s nice, but he just really wants to get back to Louis. He finally feels like he can leave after two hours. It’s been three hours since he left when he finally gets home.

                  When he gets home, Louis and Gemma are curled up under mounds of blankets, drinking tea and watching _Elf._ Louis smiles softly at him and sits up a little so Harry can curl himself into Louis’s body. Louis kisses Harry’s curls and lets him steal sips of his tea. The movie ends and Gemma yawns, stretches, says goodnight, and heads upstairs. Harry is too warm to move.

                  “This was a good birthday,” Louis declares as he plays with Harry’s curls.

                  “I’m glad.”

                  “Yeah, you’re beautiful, you know?”

                  “Thanks, babe. So are you.”

                  Louis makes a psh noise and Harry pulls Louis’ hand to his lips for a kiss. Louis tilts Harry’s head back and kisses him. Louis pulls away contemplatively and asks, “Do you think they’ll ever let us come out?”

                  “Lou,” Harry sighs because even though they both want to come out, this question always causes an argument between the two of them. Harry’s not sure how it happens, but it always, always causes an argument, “I know the answer to that question as well as you do.”

                  “I just want to be able to shout it from the rooftops, the stage, Twitter, and anywhere else how much I love you, and I hate that I can’t do that. I hate that I have to wake up to you keeping up appearances even though you’ve been away doing PR with some bitch that they are making you date. I hate it. I hate it so much.”

                  “I know, Lou,” Harry responds as a tear drops onto his head, “Don’t cry on your birthday, love.”

                  “Not my birthday anymore.”

                  “Don’t cry on Christmas. It’s Christmas.”

                  “I wish Father Christmas was real. I’d ask for us to come out.”

                  “Louis,” Harry responds, sitting up and turning to straddle Louis’s hips, “Don’t make yourself upset.”

                  “I’m not. They are,” Louis says obstinately.

                  “I don’t want to fight, Lou.”

                  “I’m not fighting you, promise. I’m just mad.”

                  “I know, I know,” Harry soothes, caressing Louis’s face.

                  “I’m just scared,” Louis replies, his eyes dropping away from Harry’s.

                  “Why? We’re on fire,” Harry whispers, kissing Louis’s forehead.

                  “I think we might be fireproof at this point,” Louis jokes, but his eyes still have tears welled in them.

                  “Don’t be scared. I love you to the moon and back. That’s not going to change,” Harry assures.

                  “But it could.”

                  “It won’t. Let’s go to bed.”

                  They head up the stairs, holding hands. They strip down to their pants and fall into bed. They press their bodies together with Harry as the little spoon and Harry knows that Louis’s happy to have his warmth as Louis presses his cold toes to Harry’s calves. Harry has gotten used to sharing body heat with his frigid boyfriend. Louis presses a kiss to Harry’s neck.

                  “Happy Christmas, love,” Louis declares.

                  “Happy Christmas. I love you.”

                  “I love you so much,” Louis adds. He wraps his arm around Harry and rests his hand in the center of Harry’s chest.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tragedy strikes the One Direction family, but will it make Harry and Louis stronger or weaker as a couple?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've updated within a week...look at me.

December 2016-Harry

                  He should be sleeping Harry thinks as he writes down another lyric. His eyes are burning and he’s pretty sure that everything he’s written down in the last twenty minutes has been absolute shit, but he keeps writing. His phone pulls him out of his reverie; it’s his personal phone and he grabs it quickly. It’s Louis, which is weird because it’s not even ten in the morning there and Louis hates mornings. The strangeness is only compounded by how long it has been since they last chatted on the phone, and that time hadn’t necessarily been pleasant.

                  “’Ello,” Harry calls into the phone, but there’s not an immediate response; all he can hear is sobbing. He asks, “Louis, what’s wrong?”

                  “Me mum,” Louis finally chokes out and cries harder.

                  “What’s wrong?” Harry asks again, and he’s terrified because he knows she’s desperately ill and he has an impending sense of doom before Louis even answers.

                  “She’s gone,” Louis sobs.

                  “Oh Lou, oh fuck, I’m so sorry,” Harry feels the tears rush to the back of his eyes and anguish crush his windpipe. Harry repeats condolences like a mantra, and they’re both just crying. He finally racks up enough sense to ask, “What do you need?”

                  “Can you call the other boys?” Louis asks after a while.

                  “Absolutely.”

                  “This is going to sound stupid.”

                  “Nothing’s stupid.”

                  “I need you guys at the X-Factor performance on Saturday.”

                  “Not stupid.”

                  “I know you want to be as far away from Simon as possible, but I need you there, H,” Louis confesses. Harry wonders how long Louis has been crying for and if there is someone there for Louis to lean on.

                  “I’ll be there,” he promises, and he’ll have to tell his team but he’ll make it work. He wouldn’t miss it for the world. “Can I tell my mum?”

                  “Yeah, of course,” Louis responds and the ache in his voice is killing Harry, “Could you call management and stuff, too?”

                  “Yeah.”

                  “I shouldn’t have asked that. I’m sorry Harry. That’s stupid; you’re not my boyfriend anymore. I can’t ask you to do things like that.”

                  “It’s okay, Louis. I can do that for you.”

                  “I feel like I should call other people, but I don’t even know who to call.”

                “Don’t worry about those things. Go be with your family. If you remember, text me the names and, if necessary, numbers of anybody you want me to call.”

                  “You’re the best Harry.”

                  “I’m not but thanks.”

                  “I …,” Louis trails off and Harry’s heart has an unprecedented reaction to the desperateness in Louis’s voice, “Thank you.”

                  “Anything I can do, just let me know.”

                  “Thank you. Bye, H.”

                  “Bye, Lou.”

                  Once he’s off the phone with Louis, the reality of the situation crushes into Harry’s being. He loved Jay; she was always this beacon of hope and joy in their chaotic lives. She was always their champion, and she loved immeasurably. Harry thinks about her six other children and feels another bout of immense sadness crash into him. There’s so much, so he picks up the phone and calls his mum.

                  “Harry, what are you doing up so late?” His mum asks cheerfully as way of greeting. He gets his early morning giddiness from her.

                  “Mum,” he says, and his voice cracks with strain.

                  “Love, what’s wrong?”

                  “Jay died.”

                  “Oh no,” his mum’s voice drops into utter sorrow, “Those poor kids. Her poor husband. Oh H, I know how much you loved her.”

                  “I spoke to Louis. Mum, he’s wrecked.”

                  “That poor dear.”

                  “I don’t know what to do.”

                  “Be you, Harry. He just wants you to be you.”

                  “But I’m not the same person.”

                  “I’ve told you this many times, but nobody is expecting you to be the same person you were when you were a teenager. It’s okay. Did he call you?”

                  “Yeah, he wants me to call the other boys.”

                  His mum makes an understanding noise and finally asserts, “You’ll do what’s best. I know you will.”

                  “Thanks, mum.”

                  “I love you, darling.”

                  “Love you too. Bye, mum.”

                  “Bye, darling.”

                  Harry calls Liam next, and Liam immediately offers to be in Doncaster to be with Louis. He’s such an immensely good friend and horribly protective. Harry knows that Cheryl is pregnant and Liam wants to get his solo career off the ground, but he’ll always steadfastly be there for them. It’s such a given with Liam that they hang up quickly, but not before Liam almost makes him cry by telling him to hang in there and that he’s got their boy. Fucking wonderful Liam.

                  He calls Niall next and he picks up with a tired, “Haz?”

                  “Yeah.”

                  “What’s up?” He asks and Harry knows that he’s probably not fully awake yet. He’s going to have to wait a little bit to tell him; otherwise, Niall won’t even remember this conversation tomorrow.

                  “You up yet,” Harry asks after a few moments.

                  “Hold on, should I stand up? That serious?”

                  “Yeah, probably should stand up.”

                  “Shit.”

                  “Sorry, Niall.”

                  “It’s okay. I’m up now.”

                  “Jay passed away this morning.”

                  “Shit,” Niall breathes out, “shit, shit, shit. How’s Tommo?”

                  “Wrecked.”

                  “Shit.”

                  “He wants us all at his X-Factor performance. I know you’re promoting and …”

                  “I’ll be there,” Niall interrupts Harry, “Tommo needs us; we’ll be there. You know how this works.”

                  “I do,” Harry smiles a little, and, of course, it’s Niall’s utter dedication that does it, “He’ll be so grateful.”

                  “Wouldn’t miss it, but I don’t know if I can stay up a minute longer, so I’m going to say good night now.”

                  “Night.”

                  Harry sits and thinks; he’s not sure if he should call Zayn. He doesn’t know if Louis meant Zayn too. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t want Zayn at the performance; it would be too much, but Zayn loved Jay in his own way. He doesn’t even know if Zayn will pick up a call from him in all honesty. He tries though.

                  He calls and it rings through to Zayn’s voicemail. He thinks about leaving one, but he doesn’t. Within a few minutes, he gets a text from Zayn, _u rang?_ He texts back affirmatively and his phone is immediately ringing.

                  “Hey?” Zayn greets suspiciously, and Harry can hear dulcet music playing in the background; of course, Zayn wasn’t asleep.

                  “I don’t know if he even wanted me to ring you,” he says as his brain loses all functions when a small bit of anger ratchets up his throat.

                  “What are you talking about?” Zayn asks, and oddly, he’s less defensive.

                  “Louis told me to call all of the boys, and I don’t know if he meant you,” Harry rambles.

                  “About what?” Zayn responds; his voice is tight, and Harry wonders briefly if he’s hurting Zayn’s feelings.

                  “Jay died.”

                 “Holy fuck,” Zayn whispers, and then he whispers something in Urdu and it makes Harry’s eyes fill with tears. Even though Zayn is being nearly his old self, Harry doesn’t mention The X-Factor performance. He won’t do that to Louis; he doesn’t know if Louis will be able to handle that too.

                  “I’m sorry,” Harry whispers.

                  “No H, I’m so sorry. I know he doesn’t want to see me now. I get it, but, Harry, you’ll call and tell me how he is, right?”

                  “Yeah,” Harry replies and then just cries for a while.

                  “I’m sorry. Send them my condolences. I know there have been rough patches between all of us, but I still care about you all. I swear.”

                  The day before Harry would have scoffed at this, but he knows Zayn. He knows when he’s being sincere so he just replies, “ I know.”

                  They hang up after perfunctory good-byes.

                  Harry calls Jeff next who sighs ostentatiously about his need to be at The X-Factor performance, “You know this will only fuel rumors.”

                  “I know.”

                  “Why do you do this to me?”

                  “Because sometimes I think you get bored at work and need a little challenge.”

                  “Please stop challenging me. I’d like to coast for the rest of my life.”

                  “You’ll make it work though, right?”

                  “Try not to get into any photos, okay?”

                  “I’ll try.”

                  “Thanks. Tell Louis that I’m sorry for his loss and H, let me know if you need anything.”

                  He calls Louis’s management next and his stomach swoops with nerves. He hates talking to them; he feels like a lovesick teenager all over again who only wanted to shout about his love for the whole world to hear. They’re surprised to hear from him; they’re even more surprised to hear that he’s calling about Louis. They try to pry into their lives like they deserve that information, but Harry won’t let them get to him. He tells them what they need to know but doesn’t divulge anything else.

                  He goes to bed next; he doesn’t sleep.

                  When he arrives at the studio for the The X-Factor before after days of planning and fretting, the first person that he knows that he sees is Daisy. She’s walking back to the dressing rooms; she sees him and lets out a curdling scream while she flings herself at him. He catches her and holds her tight.

                  “You came,” she cries against his neck and he shushes her.

                  “Of course, of course.”

                  “Niall and Liam are already here, but I only wanted to see you,” she sobs.

                  “I’m here, love. I’m here,” he assures her. He sets her down gently once she’s composed herself. She leads him back to Louis’s dressing room and points at the door with a look in her eyes that say fix this. He’s not sure that he can, but he’s willing to try.

                  Harry knocks gently and he hears a muffled reply. He walks in and Louis’s face is in his hands. Harry had already cried on the ride over, then Daisy had wrenched on all of his heartstrings, and now this is just the cherry on top.

                  “I said hold on,” Louis complains as he looks up. He sees Harry and his face crumples, “Oh.”

                  “Hi, Louis,” Harry replies gently and his eyes are welling with tears, “How are you?”

                  “Better,” Louis answers, his voice choked with tears. He stands up and clasps Harry in a tight hug.

                  “Good, good.”

March 2016-Harry

                  Harry doesn’t expect it. He’s sitting in his kitchen texting his mum when his phone starts ringing in his hands. It says it’s Lottie, which is weird. He loves her, but since he and Louis broke up, they don’t talk as much.

                  “Hello,” Harry answers.

                  “Hi, Harry, it’s Lottie,” Lottie greets and she sounds sad, “My brother is being a right wanker and I need you to talk to him.”

                  “Lottie, you know Louis and I aren’t dating anymore. I can’t influence him to do anything.”

                  Lottie snorts in derision, “I need you to talk to him, okay?”

                  “I’ll try my best, I guess.”

                  He and Louis had gotten a lot better during the _Made in the A.M._ promotion. They’d tried hard to remain friends in the time since their breakup. They’d always needed each other; they’d floated around each other as if in orbit for so long that they couldn’t really detangle themselves from that. Louis had gotten a girl pregnant and had started dating some TV actress, and Harry wasn’t aware that either of those things were fake. He had begun to believe that they just weren’t meant to be together, but that they couldn’t lose each other in their lives.

                  “Hello,” Louis barks into the phone.

                  “Louis?” Harry questions.

                  “What?”

                  “What’s wrong?”

                  “Why do you care?” Louis asks harshly.

                  “Because I care about you.”

                  “Do you?”

                  “Louis, stop bullshitting around. What the fuck is wrong?” Harry asks. He’d learned really early on in their relationship that Louis needed some tough love sometimes, and Harry hasn’t ever really been frightened to dish it out. There’s dead air for a while, and Harry checks the phone twice but he’s also learned to make Louis come to him.

                  “My mum?”

                  “Yeah?”

                  “She’s really sick, Harry, like really sick. They said she’s going to die.”

                  “Louis,” Harry intones softly, because now they’re there at the wick of Louis’s existence, “I’m so sorry. Oh Lou.”

                  “Haz, I don’t know what to do.”

                  “I don’t know. That’s awful.”

                  “Yeah.”

                  “Louis, let me know what you guys need and I’ll do my best.”

                  “I know you will. Thanks.”

                  “Yeah.”

                  Harry goes to visit eventually. He’s back in England, and he doesn’t want to miss seeing Jay. He loves her; he knows it’s probably a little weird to visit them because he and Louis have been broken up for so long, but his heart hurts thinking that she might die without him ever getting to see her.

                  She’s much sicklier than he was expecting. Louis and Dan are floating around her like they’re her moons and they need her. They do need her, and Harry is scared to the see the devastation her death will bring. Her face is sallow and he misses her vibrancy. She has him sit next to her and they chat about the other kids and his life in LA. He tells her he’s going to be in a movie and she beams with pride at him. They hold and play with Doris and Ernie. She tells him to look out for her boy and he has to bury his face in Ernie’s curls to stop her from seeing his tears.

                  “You’ll look after him, won’t you?” She asks softly as Doris weaves a hand into her mum’s hair, “He’ll want to be strong for the family, but he’ll need someone to break down to. He’ll choose you.”

                  “He has a girlfriend,” Harry replies but he can’t quite make eye contact with her.

                  “But he loves you and you love him,” She responds adamantly.

                 He’d like to argue, but he knows it’s at least very true for him. He loves Louis even if they haven’t been together in quite sometime. He’s tried to move on, and he just can’t find something like what they had. He’s disappointed in his choices, but Louis has made a life for himself that doesn’t include Harry. Harry can’t force Louis back into a relationship.

                  “Ernie, Doris, and I are going to go take a nap. We’d like it if you stayed,” Jay tells him, and she kisses his cheek as she stands up to go to her room. Dan follows closely behind her, carrying both of the twins and watching her with a twinge of sadness.

                  He eats lunch with them, and the sorrow that they’re all feeling is stifling. He spends more time with Daisy, Phoebe, Fizzy, and Lottie who are all trying their best to not fall into despondency. He’s thinking about going back to Holmes Chapel when Louis finds him alone in the hallway.

                  “Will you stay?” Louis asks, vulnerability bright in his eyes.

                  “I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Harry replies, tears welling in his eyes.

                  “Please.”

                  Tears slip down Harry’s cheek and Louis brushes them away. Harry wraps Louis up in his arms and they hold each other for far too long for two exes who are working so hard on just being friends. Harry sleeps that night tucked into Louis’s side.

 

December 2016-Louis

                  Seeing Harry gives Louis enough confidence to go on with the performance. He was contemplating calling it off; he hasn’t been able to stop crying long enough for a full performance of the song. The lyrics resonate on a deeper level now and he’s not sure if he will ever be able to sing it the way he would like. He doesn’t know if he can do it, but Harry’s presence is enough of a boost that he’s willing to try.

                  Niall interrupts their hug with a clearing of his throat. They separate reluctantly. Niall’s cheek are tinged red, and Louis wants to laugh because he has interrupted much worse than a simple hug before. Niall stutters, “We wanted to take a photo.”

                  “Can’t,” Harry murmurs, and Louis keeps his hand on Harry’s hip because he needs the stability. He feels a twinge of anger course through him, wondering why Harry has to remain hidden, “Jeff’s orders.”

                  “It’s okay,” Niall responds, “Tommo?”

                  “In a minute,” Louis replies. Niall nods and shuts the door.

                  “Why do you have to listen to Jeff?” Louis asks haughtily.

                  “He’s my manager,” Harry smiles softly.

                  “When have you ever listened to your management team?”

                  “Louis,” Harry sighs, removing Louis’s hand from his hip and walking away, “I’m here, but I’m not supposed to fuel rumors, especially since there’s no basis for them.”

                  “Says who?”

                  “Says our two-year-old break-up. Louis, I really don’t want to fight with you. Go take a picture with Niall and Liam. I’ll be here one hundred percent of the time. I’m excited to see you and Steve perform.”

                  “What if I wanted to fuel rumors?” Louis asks stepping into Harry’s personal space, and he knows he’s just challenging him to mask his feelings.

                  “I would say do it with someone else,” Harry replies and Louis can see the resolve in Harry’s face, but Louis has broken Harry’s resolve before and he could do it again given a little bit of a chance, “Plus, don’t you have a girlfriend?”

                  “It’s complicated,” Louis shoots back. She’s not really his girlfriend. They’re not official, official, most of the shit they say about each other is inane bullshit, but she’s a pretty good fuck.

                  “Yeah, well, you better hurry. Liam is probably getting impatient.”

                  Louis nods because he needs out of this room as much as Harry seems to want him out of the room too. They push each other’s buttons so well, but all Louis really wants is for them to be back to where they were before. He was so stupid to lose his mind over a fucking song. He’s now written some songs for his album that don’t put their relationship in the best light, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t still want it back, that he wouldn’t work hard for it.

                  “I’m sorry.”

                  “Louis, it’s okay. It’s okay,” Harry placates. He reaches out and squeezes Louis’s arm. Louis smiles at him and tries hard not to cry.

                  The performance goes really well and Louis makes it through the whole song without crying. He tears up when everyone starts cheering, but that’s to be expected. He can see so many people’s proud faces, and it hits him hard how much this means to him and how much it means to other people too.

                  After the show is a little bit of whirlwind too, and the boys meet with contestants and share their experiences even though the whole world knows them by now. He takes a few more pictures, but he’s also just observing. His sisters have moved to orbiting near Lou and Harry. Lou has been a good support system for Lottie, and Harry’s presence has always had a positive impact on his sisters. In fact, Daisy, who hasn’t slept in a few days, falls asleep against Harry’s shoulder in Louis’s dressing room after the show. Niall has to fly back to his promotion tour that night, but he hugs Louis extra hard and long. Liam wants to get back to Cheryl, and so then it’s just Harry. When they all start heading out, Harry says he’s got a hotel but he’d like to see them the next day for a little bit and Louis agrees mostly for the sake of his sisters. Or at least that’s what he tells himself.

                  Louis has every intention of going back to his house after the performance, but he finds himself at the hotel Harry mentioned that he was staying at. Louis knows that Harry rarely goes to his home in Hampstead for only a night because it’s usually too much of a hassle. He has Preston get in contact with Harry’s bodyguard because he knows Harry might be hesitant of a clandestine meeting like this.

                  Showing up outside of Harry’s hotel room is epically ballsy; Louis knows that, but he’s feeling selfish tonight. Louis knocks softly on the door, and he knows it takes Harry an extra long time because he’s scrutinizing Louis through the peephole. Harry opens the door and he has a towel tucked around his slim waist. His gaze dissects Louis, and Louis has no doubt that Harry knows why he’s here.

                  “Louis,” Harry whispers.

                  “H,” Louis responds and he didn’t even know he was crying until his voice comes out crackled.

                  “Come on in,” Harry declares at last.

                  Louis follows Harry into his suite. Harry’s gotten a certain bulk to him since he filmed the movie over the summer. He’s not nearly as lanky as he used to be. Louis can see the definition in his back and his legs. His body responds to Harry’s semi-naked presence.

                  “I’m going to change,” Harry informs him and Louis nods. He sits on the expansive, decorated bed; he’s feeling increasingly more awkward. Harry comes out of the bathroom in a pair of Nike joggers, and he’s gorgeous. Louis bites his lip.

                  “Why are you here?” Harry asks gently.

                  "I don't know."

                  "Louis, I don't know if this is such a good idea."

                  "I know," Louis admits.

                  "I want to help, but I'm not sure if this would really help either one of us."

                  "I know. I wasn't even trying to come here. My plan was to go home, but I knew where you were and I ended up here."

                  "Louis," Harry sighs softly.

                  "I know that I shouldn't be here. I know that, but it doesn't stop me from wanting to be here."

                  "Louis, I get it. I do."

                  "Why did you send your mum?" Louis questions. He desperately needs to know the answer suddenly. It’s imperative.

                  "Send my mum to do what?"

                  "Send your mum to come to my house."

                  "My mum came to your house?"

                  "Yeah, she was there so quickly. She helped Dan with the twins and she helped me organize the funeral. She was amazing."

                  "I didn't send her."

                  "You didn't? Then why did she come?"

                  "I told her and she must have known that I wanted to help you but I wouldn't ask her to do that. I'm sorry, Louis, I didn't know."

                  "It's okay she was a great help, and I loved having her around. It just made me miss you more," Louis admits, and he’s slightly heartbroken that Harry hadn’t sent her.

                  "I'm sorry."

                  "I shouldn't miss you. I shouldn't feel this way. We broke up two years ago, and I still want everything in my life to deal with you."

                  "I know."

                  "You know? What the fuck does that mean? You know I feel that way, and you're just what? Pitying me? Humoring me?"

                  "No, I know because I feel the same way."

                  They stare at each other. Louis can barely see through his tears, but he can see the truthfulness and tears in Harry's eyes.

                  "What does that mean? What does that mean for us?" Louis begs and he feels like he's in a desert asking for water.

                  "I don't know. I don't think this is the best time to worry about that. We're both worried and weak right now. I don't think this is the time to have a conversation about getting back together. Plus, don't you have a girlfriend?"

                  "Kind of," Louis sighs, "Would you want to make it work?"

                  "We've both changed so much. It's not going to be the same as it was when we were teenagers."

                  "It doesn't have to be. I'm not a teenager anymore either, Harry. I don't want or need you to be bubbly and teenager-y as you were when we first started dating. I'm different too, but I still want to work things out with you. I don't want to work them out with someone else. I want to work things out with you."

                  "I don't think this is the time to make that decision, Louis. You're heartbroken and I'm just familiar."

                  "Please stop putting down what we feel for each other as something that is just easy. Nothing that I have ever felt for you has been easy, but I've always wanted to try because it was with you."

                  "Okay, but I want to wait. I want to wait a little bit longer. I'm not sure. I'm just not sure."

                  "I should probably go."

                  "No, don't."

                  This time Harry is the one sounding horribly vulnerable and Louis can't deny him. He can't deny Harry this because he's weak too. He wants to lie down on this big, plush bed and weave their limbs together.

                  "Okay, okay."

                  Harry comes up to Louis and kisses him hard. Louis isn't expecting it so their noses crush against each other and their teeth clack together. Louis's body reacts further to Harry’s body, and his dick stirs in his pants. He wants Harry so bad that he's pretty sure that his bones ache because of it.

                  "We can't. I want to, but we can't," Louis grates out when Harry pulls away to kiss down Louis's neck.

                  "What?" Harry asks incredulously.

                  "We can't. I don't think that we're ready to do that. I need you Harry, but I don't think we're ready for that."

                  "You're probably right but see how far we've come. You're being more mature than me."

                  "There's a first time for everything," Louis laughs and they both step away, attempting to shake the arousal out of their bodies.

                  "Could we just cuddle?" Louis asks, and it's his vulnerability spoken out.

                  "This new you is so amazing."

                  "Stop," Louis laughs.

                  They lie down on the bed and it smells like hotel, not like their sheets always did like lavender. Harry, however, does smell gently like the lavender lotion that he puts on before he goes to bed. Usually, Harry always wanted to be the little spoon, but Louis won't allow it. He digs his nose into the hollow of Harry's throat and falls asleep well for the first time in forever.

 

January 2013- Louis

                  Agreeing to support Red Nose Day was a no brainer for them. They want to help as many charities as possible with their fame and wealth. Going to Ghana was another no brainer, but then their management told Louis he couldn’t go around with Harry. They weren’t going to let them be shot together, and Louis threw a massive fit. At first, they were going to have Niall and Harry be a pair and the other three boys go out and do “lad things,” but Louis put up another stink so that Harry could at least have Liam as an emotional rock for him.

                  When the day actually comes, Louis’s heart wrenches as he sees the extreme poverty and sickness that inflicts Ghana. He has to keep biting his lips to keep tears in his eyes. He knows that the cameras will focus on his tears, and he doesn’t want to be that vulnerable. He’s also annoyed that they’ve separated him and Harry. He’s worried about his tenderhearted boyfriend. If Zayn has broken down, Harry definitely has as well.

                  They’re finally reunited, and Harry has tear tracks down his cheeks and his eyes are bloodshot and swollen. Louis wants to reach for him, but he’s on camera and management death glares him. He’s livid and when they try to shove him in the backseat with the other boys and away from Harry, he sends a pleading look to Paul who has a whispered argument with the management representative and it’s finally allowed. Harry has his hand spread out on the van’s seat and Louis covers it with his. The management representative is sending them a look that would amputate their hands if it were a knife instead of just a look. Louis dares her to make a scene with his gaze as Harry is still being filmed by the producers of the Red Nose Day segment, so she doesn’t. She does, however, have a long fevered discussion with the producer after the filming finishes. The ride back to their hotel is long, hot, and quiet. Niall falls asleep on Liam’s shoulder, Liam, Zayn, and Harry gaze out of the windows introspectively, and Louis watches Harry.

                  When they finally get to the hotel, they rush upstairs. Louis can tell that Harry is drained and he desperately wants to make him feel better. Harry crashes facedown into the mattress, and Louis knows how he feels. This day has been all-encompassing draining, but they’re also covered in sweat and dirt, and in Harry’s case tears. Louis knows they’ll both feel better after a shower.

                  “Come on, love, let’s take a shower and then we can eat and sleep.”

                  “Not hungry.”

                  “Okay, love, let’s go take a shower anyways.”

                  Louis starts the water and makes sure that it is bordering on too hot. He coaxes Harry into the spray and they stand under it for far too long; brown water pools around their feet from the sand that coats their bodies. Louis wraps his arms around Harry tightly and Harry follows suit after a few minutes. Louis is not sure that Harry will move at all after that though, so he goes about washing them up. He grabs Harry’s shampoo and lathers his hands, massaging it into Harry’s curls. He then applies it to his own hair. He wheedles Harry to rinse it out himself, and he does but not with his usual gusto or attention. Louis lathers them with soap next and Harry barely moves as Louis moves the bar around his body. He touches Harry’s most intimate body parts and there’s barely an acknowledgement. Harry has disassociated and it’s frightening Louis beyond comprehension. He cajoles Harry into a towel and then into the robes from the closet. They sit on the bed wrapped in the plush robes.

                  Louis orders food and Harry denies being hungry even though Louis is pretty sure he hasn’t eaten all day. Harry’s just staring at the wall and Louis is becoming increasingly worried about his state of mind.

                  “Are you okay?” Louis asks softly.

                  “How can I be so selfish?”

                  “You’re not selfish,” Louis responds adamantly.

                  “I’m sitting here in a lavish robe with room service on the way, and there are people, children, dying not even one hour away. Louis, how can I be so fucking selfish?”

                  “You can’t change that for everybody. That’s not your job.”

                  “But I could change it for some with my money.”

                  “And you just did. We donated H. We donated a lot, and we raised awareness.”

                  “We could do more.”

                  “Probably, but bankrupting ourselves doesn’t end poverty and hunger.”

                  “Maybe for a few.”

                  “Maybe, but Harry you’ve done so much.”

                  “I just don’t feel like it’s enough.”

                  “I know,” Louis responds and kisses Harry’s neck.

                  They sit there in silence for a long time until the room service comes. Harry eats a little, but Louis can tell he’s only doing it to appease Louis. Louis appreciates the effort. It makes his stomach feel less fluttery.

                  “We could do more.”

                  “Then lets do it,” Louis responds.

                  “Really?”

                  “Yeah. You know how I feel about charity. I’m always up for championing another cause.”

                  “You’re wonderful,” Harry replies.

                  They sit there longer after eating, holding hands, and talking about what they saw that day. It’s cathartic. Harry cries a lot, but they also laugh at silly things they experienced. Harry finally relaxes into Louis’s side and Louis carts his fingers through Harry’s hair as he looks through the menu of movies on their TV. They settle on a mindless comedy. Louis ends up watching the whole thing with his hands making a constant circuit over Harry’s body while Harry falls into an exhausted slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter. I appreciate all kinds of feedback. I'm hoping to write a happier chapter soon.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this!
> 
> I love feedback of all kinds! Please let me know what you think!


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